


Call Me

by TheAsexualofSpades



Series: Quarantine Drabbles [94]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:40:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24928558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAsexualofSpades/pseuds/TheAsexualofSpades
Summary: Paul doesn't like phone calls because they suck and texting is so much better. Unfortunately, sometimes he has to. Fortunately, he has a wonderful partner.
Relationships: Hugh Culber/Paul Stamets, Michael Burnham & Paul Stamets, Michael Burnham/Sylvia Tilly, Paul Stamets & Sylvia Tilly
Series: Quarantine Drabbles [94]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1677655
Comments: 3
Kudos: 33





	Call Me

**Author's Note:**

> soft gays because phone calls are awful

Fandom: Star Trek

Prompt: “You can call me whenever you want.”

* * *

Paul doesn’t like phone calls. Especially when he’s never talked to that person on the phone before. So when the absolutely _stunning_ doctor gives him his phone number, Paul’s immediate reaction is ‘okay cool now we will never speak again unless it is in person.’

As it turns out, this suits both of them absolutely fine. Texting, contrary to his father’s opinions, is actually _more_ polite than phone calls because one, it doesn’t demand social interaction, and two, it is more convenient for someone to glance at their phone then have to answer an actual call. So Paul saves the number in his phone, adds the requisite _one_ emoji to Hugh’s contact as he requests, and tucks his phone back in his pocket.

One of the first things Paul does whenever he gets someone’s number is figure out what level of texting they are okay with. With Tilly, who is _fantastic,_ they will both spam each other with rants, articles, memes, you name it, knowing that the other will respond when they can and launch them into a series of tangents before they both forget and have to scroll up to see what they were originally talking about. Another advantage of texting, if you ask Paul. Can’t do that with verbal conversations.

With Burnham, who is not one for small talk at the best of times, texting is limited to particularly pertinent articles, questions about the group outing this week, and, late at night, deep philosophical conversations. Paul’s definitely typed out a lengthy response to Burnham’s question and then switched to Tilly’s chat and typed ‘lemon-lime spine.’

Hugh, as it turns out, is somewhere in the middle. Paul will send him little rants and complaints and in return, he will receive Hugh’s passive-aggressive comments about the other idiots who work at the hospital with him. They will also send each other cute cat pictures.

The second time Paul met up with Hugh, they’d been walking through the park when a cat jumped down from the bench next to them and sat there, blinking slowly, switching its tail back and forth. Hugh’s hands had flown to his mouth and Paul had frowned, stepping instinctively between the cat at Hugh, worried about why Hugh looked scared.

As it turns out, that was not Hugh’s scared expression but was in fact the ‘oh my gosh cute animal want to pet so _badly’_ expression.

The picture of Hugh sitting on the ground, beaming like sunshine while the cat lazes in his lap is his new contact photo.

Hugh is a wonderful texter. He replies when he can, lets Paul know when he can’t, and always tells him ‘good night.’ Paul, of course, has to bury his face in his hands and _not squeal_ about how cute his partner is.

Of course, not _everyone_ approves of Paul’s preference for texting.

_Me: I have to make a call at the end of the month and it fucking sucks._

_Hugh: Why? What’s it for?_

_Me: some stupid review shit that i HAVE to do_

_Hugh: ah one of those._

_Me: i dont’ get why they dont’ jstu fuckign ceom to the lab themselver and see what’s going on_

Listen. He’s angry. Typos can and will happen.

_Hugh: because you’d get even angrier when they start touching things they’re not supposed to touch._

Touché.

_Hugh: If you don’t mind me asking, what makes this one so much worse than all your other reviews?_

_Me: because it’s a fucking phone call. Normally all I have to do is make sure the boxes are ticked and my signature’s on the doc and it’s fine. Now I have to talk to someone._

_Hugh: is it specifically over the phone?_

_Me: yea_

Paul sighs, dropping his phone onto the bed beside him and rubbing the heels of his palms into his eyes. He _hates_ talking on the phone. It’s so much harder than talking in person which is _already_ hard. Because you only have someone’s voice, you can’t see their body language or their facial expressions and if your connection is bad, you can’t even hear the inflections or nuances in their voice.

It _sucks._

His phone dings.

_Hugh: Would it help to practice?_

Paul frowns.

_Me: practice what_

_Hugh: talking on the phone._

_Me: ???_

_Hugh: you can call me whenever you want, if you think it’ll help you practice talking. you know me pretty well._

_Me: hugh i fucking love you_

_Hugh: I love you too, babe. We don’t have to do it now if you don’t want, just wanted to let you know it was there._

_Me: can we?_

_Hugh: Of course. Do you want to call me or do you want me to call you?_

_Me: you call they’re going to_

_Hugh: one moment please :)_

A second later, Hugh’s smiling face fills Paul’s screen. For the first time in a long time, Paul’s smiling when he answers the phone.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Come yell at me on tumblr while we're all in quarantine.
> 
> https://a-small-batch-of-dragons.tumblr.com/


End file.
